Fading Away:Taylor's Story
by Naiae
Summary: Taylor&Kate, through Taylor's eyes. Through the love and the heartbreak, through the obligation and the passion, two lives drawn together by only one string.
1. Chapter 1

I yawned, leaning back in the chair, waiting for the nurse to signal I was done.

"Hi."  
I turned, surprised. I could count the number of times someone had talked to me in chemo before on one hand. She was slight, pale, her amber-brown eyes wide and vulnerable. I could count the number of times a _girl_ had talked to me in chemo before – it was zero.

"Hello," I replied, meeting her eyes. It was obligatory. And immediately, I looked away. What I had seen in her eyes wasn't the bleak darkness, the inexplicable defeat of most of the other patients. Her eyes were deep and wise, light and cheerful. Still holding onto life, yet not afraid of death. Eyes that had seen the world and embraced it, eyes that had seen death and were not fearful.

These eyes scared me.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the woman sitting near her look up, surprised, presumably her mother. She was beautiful, this I could see – yet, plagued by time and worry, her face was drawn, pale as well.

"What are you here for?" the girl asked, and I refocused my attention on her. I appraised her, wondering whether she was joking. _What do you fucking think I'm here for?_  
I bit back my retort. "The free cocktails."

I saw a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "Happy hour," she said, as if in response. I felt a grin spread over my face; I'd judged her too quickly.

"Taylor. AML." I said the words quietly, a silent offering. She took them.

"Kate, APL." _Jesus._ I whistled through my teeth.

"A rarity."

I watched as a slight smile grew on her lips, transforming her face. And she didn't look like just any other cancer patient anymore, she looked…well, normal. Beautiful.

"Aren't we all?" she countered, her eyes alight.

I grinned. I bent closer, looking closer. "Platelets," he acknowledged. "You're in remission." It wasn't a question.

"Today, anyway," she nodded, looking at me. "Chemo?"

"Today, anyway," I winked. I watched her cheeks flush pink, and I bit back a smile. She was a sweet girl, I could tell that much.

"So, _Kate. _What do you do when you're not at the hospital?"

"Waiting for something to put me back in," she teased, another smile unfurling across her lips.

I laughed for real this time._ I like you, Kate. _

"Well, maybe we can wait together. Can I have your phone number?" She turned her face up to me, lit with the sunlight and innocence, and maybe, maybe, a bit of hope.

Her mother fumbled with her purse, and I glanced up, startled – I'd forgotten about her. A moment passed in silence as Kate scribbled down her phone number, and handed the paper to me, the back of a receipt. _555-3211. _It was thin between my fingers.

"You're outta here, Taylor," the nurse said, and I smiled at her.

"Thanks," I said, and turned back to Kate. "Well, I'll call you, Kate."

She smiled, and I saw what flickered across her eyes – doubt. _Well. _I exited the room without a second glance, and let my legs carry me down the hall. Leaning back against the whitewashed wall, I pulled out my cellphone and dialed. 555-3211.

"Hello?" She didn't bother to disguise the excitement in her voice, and the vulnerability touched at my heart.

I smiled hard, even though she couldn't see me. "Just making sure it was you."

I walked out the front door, to the waiting car.

"Kate," I whispered into the warm air, testing the word on my tongue. And her name rolled around in my mouth, sweeter and more delicate than spun sugar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **the dialogue in the next few chapters are either going to be off a bit, or made up accordingly to the plot.  
I don't have the book with me, and since I'm in a foreign country at the minute...well...

Thanks for the two lovely reviewers: TwilightLuver29; Dancergirl123 - your reviews made my day (:  
And for the story subscribers, etcetera. I don't believe in setting an amount, exactly, of reviews I want before I continue...but reviews are always nice :D

And to answer the question - dancergirl123, yes, I'm going to continue the story, until, of course, there's no more story.  
It's always possible that it can turn out differently and Taylor can live (sorry if that's a spoiler), tell me what you think. (:

**Thanks again,** &happy reading!

* * *

I exhaled, frustrated, flipping my cellphone open for…well, the thousandth time. _Where was she?_

It had been a few days since we'd last talked, and…well, I felt a bit…_lonely. _Exhaling again, I fingered my resolve, and held it fast. And without a backwards glance, I grabbed my car keys and set out for the hospital.

From where I stood, I could make out the slight silhouette of Mrs. Fitzgerald slumped in the armchair, her voice low and mingling with Kate's. The glass was frosted, and I squinted to see Kate.

"Well by all means, Mr. Ambrose, go in." Flushing, I didn't look back to see whose voice it was as I entered the room. Mrs. Fitzgerald started, the bags under her eyes bruised. Her eyes flashed to Kate's, and I watched as Kate angled her face away from me, pale and thin. Chemo.

I relaxed in a chair, easing the tension. It wasn't tension, exactly, but embarrassment – I'd been there.

"It's great being here and not being the patient," I sighed, half jokingly.

"Speak for yourself," Kate grumbled, her eyes searching my face. She knew, and I knew, that chemo was a messy process; she knew, and I knew, that there was a lovely bucket of puke right beside her bed. I knew that I wasn't disgusted. I knew that I understood, and she was still beautiful to me, even lying in the hospital bed, washed of color. I knew that…well, I kind of liked her. She didn't.

'I once went ten hours without throwing up," I said, grinning, as Kate's face swiveled to me, her eyes catching the light of the sun.

"Get out," she whispered in awe, her mahogany eyes wide, prominent against the pale set of her face.

"I'm not kidding," I laughed, basking in the shine of her eyes.

"Well," she started, but she stopped; her lips parted slightly, her skin took on a lighter, greener tinge. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Mrs. Fitzgerald rise halfway out of her armchair, reaching for her daughter, but I reached Kate first. Pulling back her hair as gently as I could, I rubbed her back with my free hand, in small circles, feeling her delicate muscles stretched taunt.

She retched, and I didn't flinch when small drops splattered onto the feet of my jeans. Her back was delicate, fragile, thin beneath my fingers, and I held her, thinking at the moment, that she might break. Slowly, I lowered myself so I was right next to her.

"It's okay, you're okay," I whispered, small strands of her hair tickling at my upper lip. Her back shook with exertion, and dimly, I heard the door open and close. Looking up, I saw Mrs. Fitzgerald, staring at me like nothing she had seen before, and behind her, the nurse, the corners of her mouth twitched up.

"Well, Kate, I was going to come help, but it looks like you're in good hands," the nurse said slowly, and I could hear the lilt in her voice. The door opened, and closed again.

Kate relaxed against my palm, and I realized that she was done. I reached for the tissue box on her bedside table and held it to her face cautiously, an invitation. She leaned into me, a bit closer, her eyes closed in exhaustion – an acceptance.

Slowly, gently, I drew the tissue over her lips, the small folds in her skin; two people huddled together, slowly moving like all the time in the world was in their hands – two people, with anything but.


	3. Chapter 3

:] just couldn't resist.  
these two have to be my all time favorite characters in the history of...well, ever [:  
same author's note as before, it's the same day as chapter two.

**lovee you guys & happy reading :)**

* * *

She looked up at me, her eyes unreadable. She shifted, sitting up, and her hair slipped through my fingers. I sat there, looking down, relishing the memory of the strands, soft as silk, against the skin of my palm.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking into my eyes. For a second, I let myself believe that I could read her mind, that her eyes told me everything, all I needed to hear. For a second, I let myself believe that I was drowning, lost in her eyes. For a second, I let myself believe that we both would get better, start our lives again. For a second, nothing else in the world existed.

But time stretched out its hand and fate entwined itself around the both of us, and we broke away, suddenly at a loss for words. The door opened, and closed. And when be both looked up, Mrs. Fitzgerald was gone.

I touched her hand haltingly, covering it with my own.

"Kate," I started, but the look in her eyes startled me into silence. Loss, desperation. She kept her eyes trained on my face, and slowly, I watched as they filled with tears, one by one, gliding down her face.

_Oh, shit. _It wasn't that I didn't know what to do or what to say – it was that seeing her like this struck something within me, too, something that knew that I would do everything I could to make her, well…stop feeling like this.

"Kate," I said again, my voice sounding strangled, broken. "Kate – "

But she turned away, simply turning her face away from me. More on impulse than anything else, I gently climbed up on the bed next to her, watching her IV, my weight making her roll over to me, slightly. And lying there, beside her, I wrapped my arms around her, her hair spilling across my arms. I waited. A minute went by, and another. And a few more, before she turned around, opening like a rose petal into my arms.

And it was there what we lay, not moving, for what seemed like hours, entwined.  
And the door opened.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you guys all so much for the** lovely** reviews(:

Meg Haddox: thanks so much for the direct quotes, I actually just found my book yesterday, haha…I'm gonna get started on the next chapter & then I'll go back and try to switch stuff around. Thanks again! :)  
Justblaire: thanks for the review, it actually _did _make my day :D haha I think I'm gonna twist it up a bit, if you know what I mean ;) –and Jodi PiCoult really is amazing, I agree (:

damn. i'm such a hypocrite…(tense change into present, my bad, guys)

* * *

I scramble off the bed, launching myself into the empty chair beside Kate's bed.

"Hey, Mrs. Fitzgerald," I say, as if five seconds ago, I was not lying on Kate's bed, I was not cradling her daughter's head in the crook of my arm.

Before she can say another word, Kate leans over the side of her bed and throws up into the bucket. Mrs. Fitzgerald runs to hand Kate a tissue as I take the bucket and exchange it for a new one. How many times had I seen my own mother doing the same thing?  
I set the clean bucket down beside her bed, and Kate looks up at me, her face flushed pink.

"Sorry," she mumbles, looking down, and I lift her chin up with a finger, so her eyes are locked with mine.

"For what? Tomorrow it could be me." This is honest, true, and yet it strikes at the heart.

Kate smiles, more at herself than at me.

"I'm some fun date," she says, almost apologetically.

I grin at her. "Fries. For lunch," I tell her, and wink when her head snaps up and our eyes meet.

She hits my shoulder lightly, but she laughs.

"Well," she starts, and her voice trails as she looks at the bucket beside her bed and then back at me, "I owe you one."

"You do," I agree, smiling.

"I would've shared my French fries, but…"  
The mischievous flash in her eyes brings her back to me, the girl I first met.I tilt my head, taking in her slight, pale figure silhouetted against the sunlight, and I realize that I'd follow this girl to the ends of the earth.

"Alright, I know what you can give me instead."

She looks up, biting her lip to hide a smile. "Sexual favors?"

I grin at her. "Gee, I don't know. Should we ask her mom?"

The blood rushes to her face. "Oops."

Mrs. Fitzgerald intervenes. "Keep this up," she says, "and your next date will be during a bone marrow aspiration."

Kate flushes, again, grinning apologetically.

"So…" I start, turning her attention back to me. "You know the hospital has this dance, right?" I'm nervous, and I set a hand on my knee to keep it from bouncing around. Force of habit.

"It's for kids who are sick. There are doctors and nurses there, just in case, and it's held in one of the conference rooms, but it's just like a regular prom. Lame band, ugly tuxes, punch spiked with platelets." I winces, and backtracks. "I'm kidding. Well, I went last year, stag, and it was pretty dumb, but I figure…since you're a patient and I'm a patient, maybe this year, we could go together?"

I breathe. Kate straightens up.

"When is it?"

"Saturday."

Kate smiles at me. "As it turns out, I don't have plans to kick the bucket that day. I'd love to."

I can't help but smile back. "Cool. Very cool."


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys(:

it's been a lonnnng time since I've updated, but I was on Fanfiction & thinking about this story...so I'll be up a little bit more! :}

these chapters are really short but they should be coming in abundance! thank you guys & maybe review? :D

* * *

It's cold in the movie theater. I've lost track of the movie; all I can think about is how our hands are intertwined and wonder if she can hear how fast my heart is beating and wish that time would take pity on us and slow down.

Kate strokes my palm, her delicate finger trailing over my skin softly. Her fingers are cold.

She leans over to whisper in my ear. "Are you watching this?"

"Um…not really." I flash a smile at her, apologetically.

She giggles, softly. "Neither am I. Fresh air?" she suggests, and if it hadn't been dark, if she hadn't been turning away from me, I could have sworn she'd winked.

Once we're in the hallway, I nudge her shoulder, playfully.  
"Let's play hide and seek," I suggest, and she wrinkles her brow.

"In a movie theater?"

"Just close your eyes and count to ten. I'll be in this hallway."

She stares at me, bewildered, and at a second urge, complies.

"Um…ten, nine…"

I don't move.

"Eight…seven…"

And somewhere between six and five, I lean in, and our lips brush. Of course, hers are moving since she's talking, and she jerks away, slightly, from surprise, and she opens her eyes, her gaze locked on mine. The rest of the numbers fade out, and her mouth stops moving. And wordlessly, she moves closer, her body fitting into my arms, molding itself to mine, her head tilting up gently.

This time around, the nervousness evanesces, the butterflies settle. This time around, she's not talking. This time around, it feels perfect.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mr. F. Is Kate there?"  
He doesn't bother to ask who it is anymore, and I count the seconds that go by until I hear her talk.

"Hey." Her voice is soft and muffled, and if I close my eyes and tilt the phone a certain way, I can convince myself that she is right beside me.

"Where are you?"

She laughs, muffled again. "In the closet," she giggles, "with the portable phone."

I smile in spite of myself. "You ready for Saturday?"

She sighs, softly. "Mentally, I can't wait. Dress-wise…not really."

She sounds like she's going to say more, but then she stops.

"Kate, you could come to that dance with a t-shirt and jeans, and you would still look beautiful."

I can hear her smile through the phone. Slightly.

"Taylor," she starts, and her voice breaks. "Taylor," she tries again, quieter, whispering. Her voice is laced with anguish, shaking with unshed tears. "My hair's falling out."

There is nothing to say, and no ways to say them. But one.

"Kate, I'm in love with _you, _not your hair."

Silence ensues. Insecurities take root, and I fumble to backtrack. "No – sorry; I –"  
But she cuts me off. "I love you, too," she says, shyly, so softly that it could have been the wind whispering and I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.


	6. Chapter 6

I end up picking Kate up in front of her house. It has a lovely antique kind of look, with a slight crook of wind beaten rocks encasing what could have been a garden, right in front.

Adjusting my tie nervously, as I have seen in movies before, I slowly make my way up the front steps, a bouquet of gardenias, gladioluses, white hyacinths in my hand, the box that holds the silk corsage in the other. I wonder if Kate knows the history behind these flowers – love, loveliness, prayer. I wonder if Kate has run down the very steps I'm standing on, the sunlight throwing ruby facets off her hair.

I wonder about her life, before she met me.

"Taylor," Mrs. Fitzgerald greets, opening the door.

I step onto the glossy wooden floor, feeling self conscious as I shake hands with Mr. Fitzgerald. He's bulkily built, muscular. He has blonde hair, and the same cobalt blue eyes, tinged with flecks of violet, that I have fallen in love with. Kate's eyes. A face pokes out from behind him, shaped like a heart, doe-eyed.

"Hi Anna," I say, and she says hi, so softly I can barely hear it.

Mr. Fitzgerald's face relaxes into a smile.

"So, Taylor. Do you mind if I copy down your social security number?" But before I can ponder the strangeness of this particular question, we both hear a voice. It has a lilting quality, sweet and delicate.

"Daddy," Kate complains, though she's smiling. She appears at the top of the staircase, one hand loosely draped on the banister. And I look up at her, finding that she has, as she frequently does, stolen my breath away.

She sparkles under the gaze of the shimmering sunlight, gold spinning off of her dress, prancing around the walls as she slowly makes her way down.

Her auburn hair is drawn back, slipping out of her bun. I cannot help but think of what I have learned before – that red hair is actually a mutation, that only 1% of the human population has red hair.

And I wonder, for a moment before Kate is in my arms, how such a beautiful rarity could belong to me.


	7. Chapter 7

I steal looks at her as I drive, trying to capture the moment in my head. The silk corsage, the pastel petals blending tenderly with her pale skin. The curve of her cheekbones silhouetted in the setting sun, her hair, pulled back loosely, shimmering. I can see the white patches, where her hair has already fallen out. This way, she looks even more beautiful to me.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she suggests, smiling at me.

"Your parents covered that base," I laugh.

Our hands intertwine over the stick-shift, her thumb hovering right above the 'P.' P, for perfect. And she is.

She is not wearing the sanitary mask that I know the hospital has asked her to, nor do I feel the need to point this out. Tonight, she is flawless.

I park the car in front of the hospital. Just on the other side, I can already see people beginning to trickle through the doors, some wearing the sanitary mask, some not.

I take her arm as we begin walking through the grass. Dusk has fallen, and the sky is a melancholy azure color. In this light, Kate stares at me, her features frozen – the epitome of perfection. I draw her close to me.

"Kate Fitzgerald," I murmur. "Let me just say that you look beautiful tonight."

She looks into my eyes for half a heartbeat. And we're kissing – her lips, soft and full, are on mine, her hands clutch the back of my neck. I loosen my arms around her waist, letting one hand trace her spine, her soft skin.

She is delicate in my arms, her bones fine as silk, her breath, like wind.

"We don't have to go inside just yet," she whispers, and we end up lying in the grass, watching the stars that have just begun to wink at us. She lies in the crook of my shoulder as she has before, molded like she belongs there. One of her hands is on my chest; her forehead is warm against my cheek.

When we finally do go inside, I am floating so high it is hard to breathe. This thought has become routine, but I never get tired of it. I watch Kate drifting inside, a step ahead of me, thinking that she has, for the second time this evening, literally managed to take my breath away.


	8. Chapter 8

I grin at Kate over my plastic punch glass. She raises hers up, a toast.

"To us," she says, and we down our glasses.

"Tastes like platelets," I say, and I wink at her. When she laughs, she lights up inside. The curve of her lip is the bow of crescent; her eyes close, and her eyelashes seem impossibly long. She glows.

Instinctively, I look around. Under the dim lighting, I see catheters and wheelchairs and IV poles and little kids with no hair and sickness and everything, everything that isn't Kate, because Kate goddamn glows.

All of a sudden, I am sick of acute myelogenous leukemia and cancer and platelets and chemotherapy, especially chemotherapy, because I fucking like having hair.

Then I'm angry, and it's the kind of anger that can knock you over. I have read about APL and its treatments and its survival rates. The irrational part of me is screaming and I know Kate will survive, because I want it and I _need_ it and there is no rational part of me anymore and I can't think of anything else because Kate is fucking _glowing. _

"Kate," I say, "let's get out of here."


End file.
